Scooter ki Shaan, Mandi Meri Jaan – Chapter 5

 Granny often sent Papa out early in the morning to buy vegetables and fruits from the main sabzi mandi—one get all at cheap rate. Papa, happily agreed.

The mandi fascinated him. With no Granny to supervise and a pocket full of money, he felt free—like he was setting off on a grand adventure. It wasn’t that Granny didn’t want to accompany him, but the scooter could only carry either Granny or all the vegetables and fruits. 

The next early winter morning, papa got up early at 5pm. His face glowed with excitement, as if he were on his way to attain enlightenment.

He cleaned his scooter with all attention and care as a groom touches his bride for the first time.

Granny made him wear five layers of clothes, and he was “ready for battle”. 

As she handed him the money. “Spend it wisely,” she instructed. “Get the best deals on everything and come back soon. 

I’ll be waiting for you at breakfast.” (Best way to control people)

Papa said, “I’ll try, but please don’t wait if I’m late.”

“How can I have breakfast without you?” Granny replied, her voice softening. “Of course, I’ll wait.”

She gave extra money to him and said, “Take this for emergencies—but don’t use it,” 

“Sure,” Papa said.

With that, he rode off carefree.

Moments after he disappeared down the lane, Granny turned to Mom.
“Get me a bowl of fruits,” she said.

Mom got it as quick as she could. 

A few minutes later, Granny added, “Make me a cup of tea with some toast.”

Grandfather, who had been silently observing the entire scene, finally spoke up.
“Aren’t you supposed to have breakfast with your son?” he asked, teasingly.

Granny remained quiet, her face serious and unreadable.

Grandfather quickly understood he has stay alive. 

Some battles, he knew, were better left unfought.

After three hours, Papa came back home looking very proud, like he had won a big battle.
His scooter was full of bags—5 kg of potatoes, 5 kg of onions, 5 kg of mangoes, 5 kg of cauliflowers, 5 kg of tomatoes, and many more things.
There was hardly any space for him to sit, but he looked very happy and super confident.

Granny gave him a warm hug and said,
“What took you so long? I was waiting for you to have breakfast.”

Papa said, surprised,
“You didn’t eat?! I told my wife to give you breakfast if I got late. Didn’t she give you?”

Everyone stayed quiet.
No one dares to go against Granny.

Granny quickly changed the topic.
“I made your favourite—gobi paratha with curd and mango. Come, let’s eat.”

At the breakfast table, Papa said with excitement,
“You won’t believe what happened at the mandi… I asked the price of cauliflower from the first vendor near the gate. It was too expensive. Then I walked all around the market and found a vendor inside who gave the best price. But he said I had to buy 5 kg to get that rate. So I did.”
“Then he told me the same deal is there for other vegetables too. So I bought all of them. You have no idea how much money I saved!”

Granny looked down and asked firmly,
“Did you bring back the emergency money I gave you?”

Papa smiled and said,
“The prices were so low, I had to buy… it was an emergency!”

Granny stayed quiet, holding her volcano inside.

But we children loved Papa’s stories of victory.
We gave him all our attention, sitting around him like little fans. Granny, on the other hand, sat nearby, listening helplessly, clearly uninterested.

And he continued…
Papa said proudly, “I saved Rs. 50 on each vegetable! I also learnt how overpriced these local vendors are. For a small family it’s still okay, but for a family like ours—13 members—I should go to the mandi every week!”

Granny interrupted with a serious tone, “There’s no need to buy so much of everything. We don’t consume that much.”

Papa replied innocently, “1 kg costs Rs. 50, but I managed to get 5 kg in Rs. 150. I saved Rs. 100! You can’t imagine how much I saved in total!”

He started calculating mentally, whispering to himself… “Rs. 300… Rs. 400… Rs. 500…”

Granny sat silently, tolerating him. (Not letting him know she hated every bit of this nonsense.)

Unaware of Granny’s true feelings, Papa continued excitedly, “The vendor even became my friend! He told me to come next week at a particular time and place to get even better rates. What do you think?”

Granny said flatly, “We will see.”
Then she turned to us and said, “Kids, Go unload the scooter.”

We dashed off happily. Granny stood like a commander, directing everyone—though she looked deeply worried.
How would she adjust almost half the mandi inside the house?

Papa’s scooter was overloaded with vegetable sacks—honestly, only a mini truck could carry that much.
How did he even manage? He seems to be proud of his skill. 

While we stood scratching our heads, Papa had an idea. “Each child stand at a distance from one another and pass the sacks like a relay. It’s like playing ‘pass the parcel!’”

We loved it! It became a fun game.

Potatoes, onions, cauliflower—pushed under the staircase.
Other vegetables—stacked in the parking lot.
Granny ordered Mom and Chichi ji, “Wash the tomatoes and fruits.” Then, “Wash all the vegetables and dry them in the sun—on the balcony, terrace, near the window, at the door, in the dining hall… even the drawing room.” (That was a two-hour job.)
All I could see was vegetables everywhere.

By the end of it, we were exhausted—but we had enjoyed the process.
Meanwhile, Papa was already dreaming about his next weekend adventure.

A few days later, Granny had to distribute the extra vegetables to all the neighbours before they began to rot.
(And people thought Granny was so generous.)